THE ROARING
Eric S Brown
Copyright 2018 by Eric S Brown
THE ROARING
The pain was so intense that CJ had to pause and clench his teeth every time he moved forward. He was pretty sure that the bone in his right leg wasn’t just broken but entirely shattered. Wreckage from the plane had been flung all over the area of the jungle. Small fires raged amid the trees despite their dampness as CJ tried again to keep crawling out of and away from the crash site. He didn’t know if he was the only one who had survived the crash or not, but from where he was, CJ could see several bodies. They belonged to the security detail attached to the plane’s cargo. The one good thing was that he knew help would be coming. The Braxton Corporation had invested a fortune for whatever it was he and Lewis had been hired to fly into the States. There was no chance of them just writing it off and when they came to retrieve it, they would find him too. All CJ had to do was stay alive long enough to be found. The odds were against him, but he had to try. He wasn’t the type to just roll over and accept death. Even without his injury, the Amazon Basin wasn’t an easy place to survive. It was filled with dangers from tribes of cannibals, to bullet ants and deadly, venomous snakes and frogs, to large predatory cats like jaguars. He figured the fires from the plane’s burning debris would keep the animals and the worst of the insects away for the time being, but they stood just as great of a chance at attracting the attention of any natives nearby.
During his long and painful crawl already, CJ had come directly upon the corpse of one security guys. Something had severed the man’s head from his body and the ground was drenched with his blood. Nonetheless, CJ paused at the body long enough to take the pistol the man wore holstered on his hip. The weapon brought him some comfort. With any luck, the sound of it alone might scare away any the primitive cannibals who came to investigate what had happened and find the sources of the fires burning in their jungle. CJ recognized the pistol as Glock 19. He had never been a gun enthusiast, but he did know enough about firearms from his line of work to get by. The pistol had a fifteen-round magazine and fired a .40 caliber round. He hadn’t made the effort to search the man’s corpse for extra ammo so what was in the weapon was all he had to defend himself with if any trouble did come at him. It was bloody well better than not having a weapon at all though, and CJ was grateful for it.
After what felt like hours, CJ reached the edge of the clearing the plane had carved into the jungle. He managed to get himself propped against a tree and fought to stay conscious. His skin was slick with sweat and blood. Aside from his trashed leg, there were numerous small cuts that leaked red. CJ had no idea how he had gotten the wounds. He didn’t remember being thrown from the plane at all. The last thing he remembered before waking up in the jungle was the screams of those around him as the plane went down. The fires among the scattered debris were still burning. He figured if the plane itself was going to blow, it would have done so by now. By the grace of God, either the section with the fuel had come down somewhere else or the tank hadn’t been ruptured. Blinking sweat from his eyes, he stared at the Glock he had taken from the security guard’s corpse. It was the only thing he had been able to salvage from the wreckage and only random chance had provided him with the opportunity to even get it.
Sooner rather than later, he was going to need water and food. The plane had emergency stores and kits aboard it, but he was in no shape to go hunting for them if they had even survived the crash. Right now though, all he could do was try to catch his breath and hope not to pass out. Fear clawed at him, making it had to focus his thoughts. He prayed someone, anyone, was alive because surviving on his own until help came was looking less likely with each passing hour. CJ watched the burning fires and listened to the sounds of the jungle. He didn’t see the thing until it started moving. Its reptilian skin and the hair that grew out of it made it blend seamlessly into the foliage surrounding the clearing. The creature stood close to eight feet tall. There was a single giant eye atop its body below the curving top of its upper body. In the center of what should have been its chest was a mouth filled with dagger-like teeth. The mouth opened from where the top of a human’s sternum would have been and ran all the way down to the bottom of its stomach area. The creature’s arm and legs were thick masses of muscle that rippled beneath its flesh as it moved. Each of its hands ended in four gleaming claws that reflected the light of the fires. CJ felt his bladder release itself as the creature looked him over with its single, large eye and then roared so loudly the very ground seemed to shake beneath him.
CJ jerked up his Glock at the monstrous creature as it slowly advanced on him. He squeezed the pistol’s trigger, aiming for the monster’s chest. The round slammed into it, bouncing harmlessly off the scales beneath the creature’s hair. CJ fired three more times in rapid succession. Each bullet struck the monster but didn’t even slow it down. It continued its unhurried advance towards him. Desperate, CJ took aim at the monster’s singular eye. He did so too late. One of its clawed hands reached out. The monster’s fingers closed around the Glock, crushing the weapon with the power of its grip. It ripped the mangled weapon out of his trembling hand and flung it into the trees. The monster grabbed him by his shoulders, dragging him forward to the mouth in the center of its body. CJ screamed as his head was shoved into it and the monster’s teeth closed on. He felt them bite through his flesh, severing his head from his shoulders as his life came to an abrupt end.
****
The car came to a stop not far from the doorway that led into the small hangar. Heather grabbed her gear, slinging one bag onto her shoulder by its strap, and got out. It was good to be back in business. It had been a while since she’d been on a field op. and she was eager for the chance. Usually, Heather was forced to let her squad carry out the dirty work while she remained behind to handle matters with whoever hired them. This time though, their employer demanded she head up the operation herself due to its level of importance. Whatever was aboard the plane that had gone down in the Amazon, the Braxton Corporation was willing to go all out to make sure it was returned to them safely. It had barely taken any effort at all to haggle them into double the squad’s usual fee for jobs like this one. She saw Nelson waiting at the hangar door for her and hurried over to him.
Nelson was dressed in an expensive business suit and even more expensive shoes while she wore the combat fatigues of her trade. She truly hoped he brought more appropriate clothes with him. They were heading into the Amazon jungle, not popping out for coffee at the local shop. She refrained from commenting on his attire. There was no point in … yet.
“Morning,” Nelson said, greeting her with a smile. “The rest of your people are already here, Commander.”
“You’re not one of them, Mr. Nelson, so why don’t you stick with just calling me Heather,” she said, continuing to look him over.
“I’m the liaison Braxton assigned to this operation, ma’am,” Nelson told her. “For all intents and purposes, I am one of your people … or rather, you’re one of mine.”
“I read your file,” Heather commented. “Four-year tour in the Sandbox and hired muscle for the Braxton Corporation after that.”
“I can handle myself.” Nelson grinned. “That’s why I was assigned to accompany you and your squad.”
“We’ll see about that I guess,” Heather replied, sighing. “The Amazon Basin is a different world than Iraq.”
Nelson ignored her passive-aggressive challenge and motioned inside the hangar. “The sooner we get going the better. As of right now, we’re all on the clock.”
Nelson led the way into the hangar. The small plane inside was pretty much prepped and ready to go. The members of her squad were loading the last of their gear onto it. Walker noticed he
r entering the hangar and came to meet her.
“Hey, boss!” He smiled. “Good to see you.”
“Walker.” Heather nodded at him. “Looks like you’ve got things moving along nicely.”
Walker was her second and led the squad when she wasn’t with them. He was a solid man. Walker was in his later twenties, but there were patches of gray in his jet-black hair. He often liked to blame it in on the stress of the job whether or not it was true.
“I see you’ve even got Nicholson working. That’s an impressive feat.” Heather grinned watching the team’s medic and computer tech carry a crate of ordnance onto the plane.
“We’ll see how long it lasts,” Walker said and laughed.
Nicholson was one of the most gifted people Heather had ever met. The problem with him was that he knew it. He often came across as an arrogant jerk if you didn’t know how to take him. Nicholson was the squad’s youngest member, only twenty-two, but even so, the man already had three doctorate degrees and was working on his fourth. Despite his personality, he was an attractive young man. Thick blond hair topped his head and the glasses he wore did nothing to detract from the depth of his water-blue eyes. He was thin but not overly so. Nicholson might not be the toughest member of the squad, but there was no question that he was certainly an asset to it.
The other members of the squad had finished the last of their work and were aboard the plane now. There were three of them—Roger, Flagston, and Wallace. Roger was like a walking mountain of muscle. Once a professional bodybuilder, he had traded in the spotlight for the Army and then left it to become a corporate mercenary like the rest of them. One look at him was enough to convince almost anyone sane that it was not a good idea to get on his bad side. The features of his face made it look as if he was always scowling. Even so, Roger was the heart of the team. He always kept an upbeat attitude no matter the circumstances and the big man was as courageous as he was strong. Flagston was a sharp contrast to him. The little man was full of boundless energy, but it came from anxiety. If anything had a dark side, Flagston was bound to find it. He was the sort that never really fit in no matter where he went. The little man often reminded Heather of a goblin. His ears were almost pointed and his nose closer to being a beak than anything that should be on a human face. And then there was Wallace, the squad’s only other female member. Wallace could have easily been a supermodel if she had been so inclined. She was beautiful and shapely with fiery red hair that spilled over her shoulders when she let it down. Her green eyes would have been as beautiful as the rest of her if not for the edge of fierceness that was constantly in them. Wallace was a born fighter with the bloodlust to match her skills on the battlefield. Together with Walker, Nicholson, and herself, they made up Reaper Squad, one of the best, if not the best, mercenary teams money could hire. And they were armed to the teeth as if they were headed to war. Heather had faith that this job would be an easy one despite the intel Nelson had provided her with on the location where the plane had gone down. Though Nelson refused to give her an answer as to exactly what it was her team was being sent to retrieve, he informed her that it emitted an energy field that was capable of scrambling any electronics in close proximity to it, as well as making satellite imagery of the area impossible. The field was going to create an issue with communications too until the object was recovered and stored in proper containment again. The crash had apparently ruptured the object’s containment field when the plane came down, and the object’s EMP-like effects were just another thing her team had to deal with.
Everyone settled in aboard the small plane and it was airborne only a short time later. The plane itself was state-of-the-art tech that the corporation employed for ops. such as this one. It was sleek, fast, and VTOL capable. Her team had been allowed use of it many times before. Nicholson had nicknamed it “the Hopper.” It was a stupid name at least in her opinion, but Nicholson really seemed to get a kick out of torturing Glen, the pilot, by calling it that.
Glen wasn’t really part of their squad, but they had all worked together enough to where it sometimes felt as if he was. The man had saved their collective butts more than once flying into combat zones for their extraction. He was a top-notch pilot and not afraid to take the risks that one had to sometimes in order to get a job done. Heather trusted Glen with her life and those of her squad’s. She sat up front with him in the pilot’s compartment. Nelson stood in the compartment with them.
“We’re going to have to land a good bit out from your objective on this one, ma’am,” Glen told her.
Heather gave Glen a questioning look. “I thought this plane was hardened to withstand EMPs?”
“It is,” Glen nodded, “but the thing you’re after is putting out more than just a normal EMP according to Mr. Nelson here. I don’t want to risk getting too close to it unless there’s no other choice.”
“I trust your judgement, Glen,” Heather assured him and then turned to look up at Nelson where he stood behind her. “Now that we’re in route, how about telling me what exactly it is we’re after?”
“You know I can’t do that, Commander,” Nelson said and gave a helpless shrug.
“If this thing’s containment is broken like everything suggests it has been, then you know we’re going to see it anyway right?” Heather pointed out.
“No offense, Commander, but that doesn’t mean you’ll understand what it is when you do,” Nelson countered. “Besides, your job is just to get it back home and nothing more. If there’s any sort of issue with the device, that will be up to me to deal with. It’s why they sent me along after all.”
“I didn’t realize your skill set including dealing with such high-level tech,” Heather commented, trying to draw more information out of Nelson.
“It doesn’t. Not really. Braxton needed someone along that they could trust, again no offense, so I was given a crash course on the device we’re retrieving.”
“I see.” Heather frowned. “My squad has never let the corporation down before. Someone a bit less professional might find your presence on this op. a touch insulting, Mr. Nelson.”
“But then that’s why Braxton picked your squad for this, isn’t it?” Nelson purred. “You and your people are truly professionals. You’re capable of understanding the need for some extra insurance on Braxton’s part.”
“Just understand, Mr. Nelson, that if you hold back anything that could endanger my squad …” Heather said.
Nelson laughed. “You’ll shoot me and leave me to die in the jungle,” he finished for her.
“No, but you’ll wish I had,” Heather warned.
****
The VTOL landed twenty miles out from the crash site. It was the best Glen could do. The issue wasn’t just keeping the Hopper outside of the field generated by the object they had been sent to retrieve, it was also a matter of finding a clearing in the jungle large enough for the plane to set down in. Heather wasn’t happy about it, but there really wasn’t anything more Glen could do. Things were the way they were.
Heather estimated that roundtrip the squad was looking at about a day of walk time given the terrain, combined with the fact that Nelson would be accompanying them, and that was assuming they didn’t run into any trouble or worse get lost since GPS would be offline due to the EM field. Nelson certainly seemed like he could handle himself and his file certainly spoke to that fact, but Heather wasn’t counting on it. Despite his background, she would be treating him like any other corporate-assigned desk jockey until he proved himself.
Glen would be staying behind with the Hopper. Heather didn’t like the idea of the pilot being left in the jungle alone, so she assigned Wallace to remain behind with him.
“You want me to what?” Wallace growled at the order she had been given.
“I want you to stay here with Glen,” Heather said again. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Wallace. I know how capable you are and that’s exactly why I picked you. If a tribe of cannibals comes poking around the plane, you’re
the perfect person to kill every one of the bastards … then likely go after their families.”
Wallace chuckled at the last bit Heather had added on.
“Okay,” Wallace relented. “I see your point.”
“Good.” Heather grinned at her. “If we’re not back in forty eight hours …”
“Got it, boss,” Wallace replied.
Heather blinked, surprised by Wallace’s interruption. It was true that she ran the squad fast and easy without all the regulations and formality that the real military had, but there were still lines of respect that needed to be followed for the squad to operate as it should. Wallace was getting dangerously close to crossing those lines beyond a point where Heather could let her slide.
“I don’t want you coming after us. Do I make myself clear?” Heather said, watching Wallace carefully. Wallace flinched at her tone but nodded.
“Crystal,” Wallace assured her. “If you’re not back, I’ll make sure Glen gets out of here.”
Heather left Wallace aboard the VTOL with Glen and joined the others already waiting on her outside.
Walker had the others ready to move out. He moved with purpose among them, looking over their gear. Nelson had changed out of his business suit and into the same combat gear that the others wore. The look suited him. He looked like a natural in it as he stood there holding the M-16 he carried. Walker and Nicholson carried M-16s as well. Roger, however, was armed with an automatic shotgun and Flagston carried a P-90.
The jungle was hot and the heat was worsened by the humidity trapped in its dense foliage. The sun was bright in the sky above them as they set out into the jungle. Thick roots snaked outwards from the trees around them protruding from the ground. Everything around them seemed to be alive. Bugs flew through the air, ants swarmed about here and there, and they could hear the calls of birds and other distant wildlife. Heather was glad they were beginning their hike to the crash site during the daytime hours. It would give them a chance to get a feel for the terrain before night fell and the jungle was cloaked in darkness.
The Roaring Page 1
